


Always

by Comedia



Series: Postwar Series [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: M/M, Mass Effect 3 EC Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 01:50:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comedia/pseuds/Comedia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are Extended Cut (destroy ending) spoilers in this one. They’re literally everywhere. So, uh, how do I describe this without spoilers? Well, it’s from Kaidan’s POV, as he sets out on a journey to go… somewhere…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always

Sometimes he’ll notice Joker talking to the ship as if EDI was still part of it. He’ll glance at a panel or a screen and smile tenderly for a second, but when there is no reply he’ll go quiet again and the smile will falter. Kaidan wants to go to him. He wants to tell Joker that he’s been doing the same. That he’ll talk to all kinds of inanimate objects in Shepard’s cabin. He’s found himself having conversations with the fish (which, admittedly, aren’t inanimate objects), the skylight; he’ll read a datapad and end up talking to it… but in the end he knows it’s not the same. So he doesn’t say anything.

He hadn’t even realized how important EDI was until they couldn’t get a response from her – and eventually realized that they never would again. Several of the crewmembers will still ask questions, glancing up at the ceiling, or say things like “oh, but EDI can calibrate it”.  
EDI and the Normandy were the same thing for such a long time, and with the ship still up and running it’s hard to accept that she isn’t around anymore.

Kaidan tried to keep it together, he really did. But when you travel through space and can do nothing but count down the days it gets hard.

Sometimes he’d go down to the drive-core, simply to stare at it for a few hours. He’d look at that eerie glow and just thank whatever deity was listening that the Normandy was still going strong, despite everything it had been through.

But without EDI the ship seemed like nothing but a shell, soulless and cold, and some days he couldn’t bring himself to trust it. It had been built by Cerberus after all, and while he knew that his paranoia was becoming ridiculous, things like Sanctuary were all too recent to be ignored. It was one of those days – when he expected betrayal from the one thing that separated him from the merciless cold of space – that he returned to Shepard’s cabin.

No one in the crew had been there since Earth.  
In a way it would’ve made sense for him to sleep there, not only because of being the one in charge, but also because of… because…

Whatever case, he felt trapped and he knew there was only one place he could find peace – ironically enough. As the doors slid open the scent of Shepard hit him, and he’d had to hold on to the doorframe for a while, simply trying to steady himself.

It only took days until he was sleeping in Shepard’s bed, both enjoying and dreading the memories it would inevitably bring back. John always used to say it was harder than it looked, but it sure as hell beat the sleeper pods, and besides – Kaidan’s memories of this bed are all soft and warm, anything but hard, or maybe, yeah, there were some hard ones too, but… you know.  
For the first time in weeks he touched himself, and it was all so wrong but lord, how could he not?

He’d wake up to find himself hugging a pillow, or stretching out - one arm reaching for John’s side of the bed.

Instead of exploring planets he explored a cabin he already knew pretty well. He had turned off the Aquarium V.I only to feed the fish himself. Sometimes he’d rearrange the ship models, only to put them back the way they used to be in case Shepard preferred them that way. There were datapads that he didn’t dare read, and drawers he didn’t open, because snooping around too much just wasn’t okay. But he did open one drawer, one night when maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as sober as the commanding officer should be.

A few more datapads, a package of medi-gel; there was nothing special in there, really, but for some reason he had decided to rummage through the drawer despite that. And at the bottom was a photo. A photo of a much younger Kaidan, with less scars, but Kaidan nonetheless.

Looking back, stumbling into Garrus quarters late at night wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done, but he had to know. The Turian had told him that yeah, Shepard had kept that photo around when fighting the Collectors, and Kaidan had pretended he didn’t see Tali hiding further into the room. Calibrations. Right.

There’s something incredibly weird about holding a picture of yourself close when you go to sleep, but it wasn’t about who was on the photograph – it was about what it meant. To Kaidan it became a symbol of never giving up, and just like when Shepard faced the Collectors with nothing but this frame by his side, Kaidan would do the same.

Three months passed, and they kept going in the general direction of Earth, with still no word from the Alliance or any other fleet. So when Traynor suddenly summoned them to the comm room and Hackett’s voice broke through, everything went quiet. It took a few moments for them to realize that it was actually happening, that they’d finally made contact. There were cheering… hugging and crying, maybe there were dancing too, but looking back he can’t remember; he wasn’t really paying attention to the others. He had gripped the console in front of him hard, not even noticing his biotics flare. They had spoken to Hackett for quite some time; each crewmember asking for updates on their race and their families, and the question that should’ve been asked first was saved for last.

“And Shepard?”

His voice had been hoarse, strained even. The room had gone quiet once again.

“The Commander is alive.”

It was like an oncoming migraine, like a Banshee getting too close and tearing down his last defenses. Leaning against the console he couldn’t hold the tears back, and eventually Liara had put a hand on his shoulder, gently guiding him back to Shepard’s cabin.

Another three months passed until they reached Earth. He can’t really remember much of the journey. It was all about waiting for the next update from the Admiral and trying to keep morale up, and thankfully; with someone like Vega onboard that wasn’t a challenge. There were poker games, betting on all kinds of things, movie-nights and there might’ve been a fighting ring held in the shuttle bay that Kaidan kept pretending he didn’t know anything about.

When they finally caught sight of Earth he couldn’t help but to worry about the crew. Earth wasn’t home to many of them, so how could this possibly seem like a triumph? But most of them seemed to celebrate as if they had won yet another war. Or perhaps this was just a delayed celebration – a joy they couldn’t allow until actually seeing proof it was true.

Seeing home should’ve been a much happier occasion, but all he could think about was the people down there. His family. Shepard.  
He had paced the cabin for hours, feeling a headache coming on, feeling weak and not ready… the shuttle ride seemed to go on forever, and until the moment he entered the hallways of the hospital everything had seemed like some kind of dream to him. He was barely aware of his surroundings, and only managed to nod his head slightly as the Admiral told him about the slow, but steady, progress they were making rebuilding Earth, The Citadel… most of the galaxy, really.

The hospital was located in an old skyscraper that somehow had survived the war. It seemed fitting; to treat the survivors in a place as tough as them.

Hackett had stopped him outside of Shepard’s room, the Admiral looking much more, well, human than he usually did.

“He has been awake for quite some time now, but he doesn’t speak. Doctors say they put him back together properly, so it’s most likely by choice.” He had hesitated for a second, looking at Kaidan as if seizing him up. “Good luck, Major.”

The first thing he noticed about the room was the scent of metal. The buzzing of a dozen machines all hooked up to one, single body. For a second he looked out the window, happy that Shepard at least could see a blue sky every day, but the sound of heavy breathing brought his focus back to the bed. And this time he looked, actually looked, at the body.

The skin was still torn open in many places, shifting in more colors than a spacesick Drell; blue; red; pink; black; yellow; green; purple. All kinds of tubes were sticking out from both arms and legs, and even from the torso that was still partly bandaged.

But despite his body still being in such a terrible shape Shepard was awake – his eyes as bright as the sky outside – and staring at Kaidan.

“John?”

Because no; he wasn’t Shepard anymore. Or maybe he was, but if so it didn’t matter. To Kaidan he wasn’t The Commander, he was simply ‘John’.

As he noticed Shepard trying to lift an arm from the covers as if to reach for him he hurried to the bed, quickly moving the datapads on the bedside table and sitting down. The hand was softer than he remembered with the new skin that had either just regrown or been transplanted, and so very warm. So very real.

“I told you I’d wait for you.”

John’s voice was nothing more than rasping breath; the voice of someone speaking for the first time in months. And somehow Kaidan managed to smile through the tears, because no, he didn’t cry the way he had on the Normandy, but just like that time he couldn’t hold them back either.

“I’m sorry I took so long.” There might’ve been a hiccup in there somewhere, but he was too relieved to be embarrassed. Bringing John’s hand to his face, the smooth palm against his cheek – and why on Earth hadn’t he shaved, he must look like a barbarian or something – he could finally feel his heart settle down to its normal rhythm once again. It was like he’d been trapped in an adrenaline rush for the past six months, everything moving in slow motion and appearing to be so far away.  
Right there and then he didn’t even think about it, but it was just like when Shepard had called for evac; a gentle caress despite the armor. Know that I love you. Always.  
He never dared to believe that they’d have ‘always’, but now… now with John’s warm and very much alive hand against his skin – this time no armor separating them – he might just believe that.

Always.


End file.
